


Ghosts of Kirkwall's Past

by SeraphFighter



Series: Ember Hawke [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Developing Friendships, F/M, Gen, Mentions of Past Torture, Slight Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 18:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21123353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraphFighter/pseuds/SeraphFighter
Summary: Cullen frowned; he had never heard Hawke sound so subdued before. From the moment he had met her in Kirkwall she had been an unstoppable force, a woman who always had a snarky comment on hand and was ready for a fight. He knew how to handle that Hawke—all he had to do was not let her get under his skin. This Hawke, however, left him at a loss.Set during DA:I. On a sleepless night, Cullen is wandering the battlements when he encounters Hawke. A conversation starts between them, and they soon realize that despite their past differences, they may not be so different after all.





	Ghosts of Kirkwall's Past

**Author's Note:**

> To preface: In my version of canon Hawke was left behind in The Fade, where she was missing for several months. She survived the encounter with The Nightmare Demon, but she had to resort to blood magic to save herself. She is found by The Inquisitor on an expedition when she emerges from a Rift. Despite surviving, she is haunted by the things she witnessed. She also used to be in a relationship with Anders, but she ended things after he destroyed the Chantry. She found out after fleeing Kirkwall she was pregnant (I headcannon since Anders merged with Justice the effects of being a Grey Warden aren't as strong), and she gave birth to her son, Malcolm. 
> 
> This story is inspired by the lack of content between Cullen and Hawke in-game. There was a lot of potential for their interactions following Kirkwall, and I wanted to explore that.

The bitter chill of the night hit Cullen as soon as he stepped out of his office, burning through the thin material of his clothes and chasing away the last vestiges of his nightmare. He pulled his cloak tighter around him with trembling hands, clutching it to his chest as he started his walk across the battlements. The panic that had been sitting heavy in his chest started lifting with every step he took, leaving nothing but a slight headache in its wake. His nightmares were starting to become less frequent, but tonight’s had been particularly bad—he chalked it up to Celeste being away from Skyhold. He always struggled to sleep when she was out on the field and not safe with him.

Cullen was grateful for the lack of people wandering at this time of night. The few guards on rotation paid him little attention as he walked past. The only people he could see were the few still lingering around the Herald’s Rest, and they were all too drunk to pay any attention to him. He considered going and grabbing a drink himself, but there was the very real possibility that the Iron Bull was still awake and drinking with The Chargers so he dismissed the thought; he knew the former Ben-Hassarath would hone in the fact that he was difficulty sleeping, and he was too tired to try and ward off his questions. 

He moved past the Herald’s Rest, following the familiar route that he and Celeste took when needed a break from their work. It brought him some comfort, imagining her there walking beside him, stopping to pull him against the battlements and kiss him every time they were away from prying eyes. The thought brought a small smile to his lips. He allowed himself to keep thinking of her instead of the demons that haunted his dreams as he continued walking. Until a familiar figure leaning on her elbows against the edge of the battlements stopped him in his tracks.

Ember Hawke was facing away from him, staring out at the vast expanse of mountains that surrounded Skyhold. Cullen hadn’t seen much of her since she had been rescued from the Fade. She mostly stayed in her quarters, only letting people like Varric in to see her. She was no longer attending the War Table meetings. The few times he had seen her outside of her quarters she was by herself—a stark difference to the crowd she had always been surrounded by in Kirkwall. She always seemed tired, possessing none of her former energy, and tonight appeared to be no different.

Like him, she was wrapped in a thick cloak to ward off the chill. Her dark hair hid her face from his view, but he didn’t need to see it to sense the weariness radiating from her; it was evident in the way her shoulders were slumped and her head slightly bowed. It was the same weariness that Cullen himself often felt. He was sure if she turned to him he would be able to see the dark circles under her eyes and the pale skin of her face. 

He started to leave, figuring he would let her have her privacy, but her voice stopped him before he got too far. “It’s a little late for the commander of the Inquisition to be awake isn’t it?” 

Cullen turned around to find Hawke staring at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. He let out a short laugh, his breath fogging the air in front of him. “I could say the same thing to you.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her head away from him to stare back out at the mountains. Her voice was quiet and sad when she spoke, “I’ll be fine. It’s not like there’s much the world needs from The Champion of Kirkwall anymore anyway.”

Cullen frowned; he had never heard Hawke sound so subdued before. From the moment he had met her in Kirkwall she had been an unstoppable force, a woman who always had a snarky comment on hand and was ready for a fight. He knew how to handle that Hawke—all he had to do was not let her get under his skin. This Hawke, however, left him at a loss. 

He settled on saying, “I don’t believe that’s true,” and joining her against the edge of the battlements. 

Hawke scoffed, “Don’t fool yourself. All the Inquisition has been doing is fixing my mistakes.”

“Corypheus wasn’t a mistake; you had no way of knowing that he would come back.”

“What about Anders? If I had been smart enough not to trust him then maybe he wouldn’t have—” 

“Hawke, stop.” Cullen could tell she was spiraling, falling into a pit of self-hatred. It was a feeling he was familiar with, and he knew he had to stop her before she fell too far into it. 

She fell silent, her chest heaving as she fought to calm down. She gripped the stone beneath her in a white knuckled grip, and she kept her head down to avoid Cullen’s gaze. Something had obviously left her feeling vulnerable, and Cullen had to admit to himself that he was alarmed. Hawke would have never let him see her like this during Kirkwall—even days after her mother’s death, she appeared just as composed as she always did. This was a side of Hawke that was usually reserved for those she was close to, not someone she was barely on speaking terms with over a year ago. 

However, Cullen also knew that you didn’t always have control over who you broke down in front of. 

Silence stretched out between them, and Cullen didn’t know how much time had passed before Hawke had calmed down enough to speak again, “You know, I could barely stand you in Kirkwall. You represented everything I was raised to hate and fear. And you were so…” she paused to think, before continuing, “…self-righteous. Maker, you didn’t even think mages were people! Yet, here you are, commanding an army partly made up of free mages, and in love with the Inquisitor—who is a mage herself.” She fixed him with an intrigued stare, like she was trying to pick him apart. “Something’s changed in you, Rutherford.” 

Her words didn’t surprise him, but guilt coiled uncomfortably in his gut, nonetheless. “I wasn’t in the best place during Kirkwall,” Cullen admitted slowly, keeping his voice cautious to avoid Hawke’s ire. “I let my past experiences cloud my judgement. I should have done more to oppose Meredith—I see that now.” 

Cullen’s mind went to Celeste. It made him sick to his stomach to think about how he would’ve behaved around her if they had met during Kirkwall. He had confessed that to her once—she had just given him a gentle smile, kissed him, and stated that there was no point in thinking about that. 

Hawke was silent, staring at Cullen. He braced himself for her to yell at him, tell him that it was too late for his apologies. Say that if he had only done more, then less lives would have been lost. But she didn’t. Instead she turned her gaze back to the mountains and spoke quietly, “Kirkwall wasn’t the best time for me either,” she admitted. 

“Bethany died before we could leave Lothering, I got Carver infected with the taint, an insane blood mage butchered my mother, and the man I loved manipulated me and destroyed the most revered place in the city, murdering dozens.” Hawke paused, pulling her cloak tighter around herself, like she was looking for comfort. 

“Finding out I was pregnant with Malcolm after I left Kirkwall topped it all off. I had no idea how I was going to be a mother. I was in no shape to raise a child on my own, but…I couldn’t bring myself to end it. Malcolm became the most important thing in my life—he was the only reason I was able to push myself to keep going.”

Cullen had heard Hawke mention her son before. He had never personally met him, for Hawke didn’t bring him to Skyhold with her. From what he knew she had left him with Fenris in a safe location far away from the threat of Corypheus.

“But then I saw the horrors of The Fade,” Hawke continued. She rubbed at the scars on her wrists, a reminder of what she had to do in order to survive. “I can’t remember the last time I slept and didn’t have a nightmare.” She let out a sardonic chuckle, “I guess you can say my whole life hasn’t been a good time. I don’t know why I’m telling you this; it’s not like you care.” 

Cullen himself wasn’t sure why she told him all this either. If they had been having this conversation during Kirkwall, he wouldn’t have cared. But now, they were standing on the battlements in the middle of the night for the same reason. They were both haunted by the ghosts of their pasts, some of those ghosts which were shared. 

Perhaps he and Hawke weren’t so different after all.

“When I was stationed at Kinloch Hold a blood mage named Uldred took over the tower. Many of the Templars I was stationed with were slaughtered. Uldred spared me, choosing instead to imprison and torture me. I don’t know how long I was trapped in his prison before the Hero of Ferelden found me.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, unease twisting uncomfortably in his gut as the memories flooded him. 

“Then I was stationed at Kirkwall. After Meredith, I knew I needed away from that life. I joined the Inquisition, and I stopped taking lyrium. I still have nightmares—the withdrawal makes them worse.” He paused, and he couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at his lips. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this; it’s not like you care.” 

Hawke stared at him for a moment. Then she shook her head, a huff of air escaping her lips. “Shit Rutherford, I thought I was messed up.” 

“I think everything you just told me qualifies me to tell you that you are,” he responded wryly. She glared at him, but there was no real heat behind it. 

Suddenly, she turned to him and held out her hand. “A truce,” she explained when she noticed his confusion. “I think it’s time for us to put our differences aside.” 

Cullen stared at her hand for a moment before clasping his to hers. Hawke smiled and shook his hand, and he had to admit that he felt relieved. While he knew they would still have their disagreements, this was another part of his past that he could put behind him. 

“I hope this means you will no longer make my work harder than it already is.” He pulled his hand away from hers, tucking it back into the warmth of his cloak. 

Hawke flashed him a grin full of teeth that tugged at the scar on her cheek. “I’m afraid I can’t guarantee that, Commander.”

Cullen huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I suppose that was too much to hope for.” 

She hummed in agreement. “At least you realize the notion was ridiculous.” She paused, her gaze going to the scar on his lip. “I suppose I need to apologize for that while I’m at it.” 

His hand went up to absently touch the scar in question. She had given it to him during one of their disagreements in Kirkwall, her gauntleted fist colliding with his mouth faster than he could block it. He had been angry at the time, but in truth he hadn’t thought much about it since then. 

“Don’t worry about it; The Inquisitor likes it.” 

Hawke laughed, a true, genuine one this time. Cullen found himself laughing with her.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, this is my first fic I've posted. I hope you enjoyed it.  
I want to start writing more to post, not just in this fandom, but other ones as well. However life is busy, so I'm not sure how often I will be posting.  
Anyway, thank you all for reading, and your comments will be really appreciated <3


End file.
